


The Legend of the Lampenis

by One_sadistic_bitch



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Crack, For your own good dont read this, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_sadistic_bitch/pseuds/One_sadistic_bitch
Summary: This is a story about Jeremy Blaire’s worst secret





	1. Chapter 1

Jeremy had been hiding this secret for the better part of his adult life. Deep down he'd always known that he was a furry, but people would never accept him as such in his line of work. He smiled a hideously wide grin in the mirror, looking over his fur-suit. It was a simple rectangular floor lamp box, IKEA to be exact, with three circular holes cut in the cardboard. Two for the eyes, and one for Lil Waylon, his proud little two incher. Well... one and a half, but no one needed to know that.  
Who needed a real fur-suit anyway? Craftsmanship was far superior.  
He adjusted the cat ears he'd hot-glued to the top of the lamp box, and headed for the door, ready for a night of fun. Or more accurately a night of disappointment.  
"HOLY SHIT BUDDY!" The door flew open before Jeremy could reach it, hitting him square in the face and knocking him to the floor.  
Fuck! No, Rick could not be here! He'd forgotten he had an extra key made for Trager, finding comfort in the fact that he could be looked after by someone who was infinitely better than him.  
"Shit Jer, where are ya?" Trager stepped into the room, his eyes scanning for Jeremy. "I just heard you in here!"  
Jeremy curled up his pathetic body behind the door, trying his best to avoid the sight of the man who was clearly greater than him.  
Just as Rick turned to leave and a fragment of hope appeared in Jeremy's heart, everything he'd ever worked for fell apart before his eyes.  
"Jer! There's some psychopath in a cardboard box hidin in your room!" Trager yelled, his face showing a look of horror.  
Jeremy tried to stand, wobbling to his feet with the grace of a drunken elephant. A feeling of anger and embarrassment wasted over him, and he lunged for the man who was threatening to expose him.  
"ITS TRYIN TO ATTACK ME, JER! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" Rick held up his hand, stopping the boxed creature from moving forward with a palm against its 'face'.  
Jeremy gave up, falling to the ground once again, tears beginning to run from his eye. "For fucks sake it's me, Rick."  
He felt Trager's foot push on the side of the cardboard box to roll him over.  
"Buddy?" The more human of the two men leaned down to investigate this newly found cardboard monstrosity. "What the hell? It is you!"  
"Don't look at Lil Waylon!" Jeremy whined, even more embarrassed than before.  
"Wait..." Trager stood, pointing down at Jeremy's cardboard prison. "That's yer dick?"  
He remained silent, his tears soaking into the cardboard around him.  
Trager tossed his head back and laughed. "I thought that was a cheese puff! Looks like you spray tanned a pinkie finger!"  
If Jeremy had any strength left in his scrawny little body, he'd have attempted to beat his friend's ass for that comment. Attempted because there was no way in hell he could even manage to stand up, let alone kick anyone's ass.  
"Rick, if you tell anyone about this..." He didn't even have a threat prepared for a moment like this.  
"Oh I'm tellin everyone." Trager laughed, carefully stepping over the disaster of a man below him as he walked out the door.  
"No! Come back!" Jeremy tried to rise up and chase after him, but it was far too late.  
-  
~Later that night~  
"Ha, nah you should have seen it! Shit was insane!" Trager smiled, speaking those same words into the phone as he had to ten other coworkers that night.  
Suddenly the phone line cut out, leaving only static on other end.  
"Hello? Did you really have to hang up on me?" Rick was close to slamming his phone down on the table in annoyance, but something caught his attention.  
Was someone breathing on the other end?  
"Don't hang up just yet." A familiar voice spoke.  
"Jer, didn't anyone ever teach you not to interrupt people's phone calls?"  
"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to look out a window?" Jeremy sneered.  
"That's a shitty comeback Blaire." Trager couldn't help but move his eyes to the largest window in his bedroom.  
He nearly jumped at the sight of a crumpled and tear-stained cardboard box standing just outside his window. Two ice blue eyes stared at him through the slits in the cardboard.  
"Who'd you tell?" Jeremy's eyes narrowed.  
Trager shrugged taking a step closer to the glass. "Oh ya know, just about a whole board meeting full, not too many people."  
"You shouldn't have done that." Jeremy laughed.  
Rick raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Bad things happen when you see things you shouldn't!" He pressed his cardboard clad face against the window. "The Lampenis always gets revenge!"  
Trager closed the blinds, he didn't have time for this shit.  
~  
Ever since that night, throughout all the Murkoff offices, you can hear mutterings of the Lampenis legend.  
They say he can be summoned, and they say he can be defeated, but one thing is for sure...  
No one will ever make fun of Lil Waylon again.


	2. Reveal of the Bubble Wrapussy

It was late on a stormy Saturday night, and the Lampenis was out in the dark, stalking for its prey. He heard a rustling in the bushes to his left, and froze in his tracks. After being caught in his fur-suit once, he couldn't afford being recognized like this again. Naturally, he rushed to the nearest lamppost and tried to hide behind it. Of course his chubby little boxed body wasn't easily hidden.  
As he peeked out from behind his lamppost shield, a pair of long hairy legs stepped out of the bushes, black high heels on their feet. The legs were attached to what looked like a roll of bubble wrap, with brown puppy dogs ears on its 'head'.  
Finally! He'd found someone like himself!  
He jumped out from behind his lamppost in an effort to impress this possible mate, but instead he'd only succeeded in knocking her over.  
"What the hell are you?!" The bubble wrap creature shrieked, scurrying to her feet to flee her cardboard attacker.   
"What the hell am I?" Jeremy stopped to look over his new female counterpart. "What the hell are you?"  
How rude of her, she didn't even introduce herself before insulting him.  
"I'm a dog, you fucking idiot!" She hunched over, head-butting him with her plastic dog ears.  
"And I'm a cat!" Jeremy burst one of his arms through the side of his box, and pointed to his furry cat ears. "See?"  
There was a long and horrifically awkward silence.  
"No dip-shit, I don't see, my fucking eyes are covered." This odd bubble wrapped woman appeared to have her hands on her hips, but he couldn't tell for sure.  
"Noted." Jeremy took a cautious step closer to the other creature. "You sure sound awfully familiar..."  
"Bubble Wrapussy attack!" The female creature screamed, sending one of her long prickly legs flying in Jeremy's direction, the heel of her shoe puncturing his cardboard armor and nailing him directly in the shin.  
Of course Jeremy, being a pathetic piece of walking shit, fell to ground and nearly started crying. However his breakdown was interrupted by his clear view of this so call 'Wrapussy' slowly walking up to his sad little form, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.  
Clumsily, he hurried to his feet, trying the best he could to quickly shuffle away in the restrictive cardboard. How idiotic these monsters must have looked to any passers by, just a walking box being chased down by the worlds slowest roll of bubble wrap. That slow roll of bubble wrap being Pauline Glick, he'd recognized her voice.  
He could hear the click of high heels quickening behind him, and he dashed to take cover around the corner, leaning against a white picket fence. Maybe if he stayed still and silent, she wouldn't notice him, just like in those dinosaur movies! He held his breath and tried not to move.  
The lanky roll of bubble wrap poked its head around the corner first, tapping her heel on the ground as she searched. "I can smell you! I know you're here somewhere, you pissed scented moron!"  
"Hey! I don't smell like piss!" The urge to defend himself, outweighed Jeremy's need to stay safe.  
The Wrapussy hissed like some kind of demonic snake and lunged for her target. "You're the Lampenis!" She growled, tackling him to the ground.  
Being that she couldn't see, Pauline had no way of knowing that the two of them had been on a hill, and thus they tumbled to the bottom together in a heap of bubble wrap and cardboard.  
"Ah shitty shit!" The Lampenis cursed, trying his best to squirm away from the plastic bubble witch.  
He wiggled his way out of his cardboard entrapment and tossed it aside. There was always another IKEA lamp box, but that bubble wrap demon was not going to get him, not that night. He raced down the sidewalk completely and utterly naked, aside from his expensive dress shoes and his $200 socks, when suddenly he was caught in a pair of head-lights.  
He squinted, trying to make out whose car it could have been, when someone stepped out of the driver's side.  
"OKAY, WHAT THE FUCK JER?!" He heard Trager's yell, as the outline of the man walked closer to him, finally becoming recognizable in the light of a street lamp.  
Damn it, not again!  
"First you're dressin up in a lamp box with your baby carrot sized dick hangin out, and now what?!" Rick pinched the bridge of his nose with a frustrated sigh. "You're going for jogs butt-ass naked?"  
"Rick, listen, there's a fucking-" He was interrupted by the sound of heels, furiously clacking down the sidewalk.  
"IT'S A DEMON!" Trager screamed, pointing at the bubble wrap mass that was hurling itself towards them.  
Jeremy turned to get into Rick's car, but he felt a firm grip on his shoulders pull him back.  
"Take em!" Trager shouted, shoving Jeremy towards the creature before jumping in his car and speeding off without a second thought.


	3. Exposing Murkoff

It'd been a few days since that faithful night when the Lampenis and Wrapussy had decided to join forces, and things were going rather well. In Jeremy's opinion at least. Pauline was still on edge about the idea of working with such a pathetic creature, although some would argue that she herself was just as bad.   
Somehow in the days before, their escapades had led them to a midnight exploration of the Murkoff executive offices.  
"Could you tell why the hell we're again?" Pauline whispered angrily, bumping into a desk for the forth time due to her lack of proper vision.  
"Because, I forgot my paperwork!" Jeremy growled, trying to shuffle a bit faster.  
"And you couldn't have just walked in to fucking get it?" She would have tried to kick him again, had she not nearly tripped over a small trashcan. "Also, what the hell is that smell?!"  
"I just got a new fur-suit, I had to break it in!" Jeremy mumbled, trying to open the door of his office, despite his inability to use his hands.  
"So what? Did you piss on it?" Pauline had partially meant that as a joke, but judging by the smell she wasn't so sure.  
"Pfff, did I piss on it?" Jeremy laughed. "Of course I did!"  
"Oh you sick fucker!" She hissed, rearing back to avoid the smell.  
"Hush!" He yelled, busting his left arm through the thin cardboard so he could properly open the door. "We're trying to be secretive, remember?"  
"Yeah sure, be secretive with the biggest dumbass in the world!" Pauline huffed, following him through his office door.  
"Whose the one that's dressed in fucking bubble wrap, the loudest shit on the planet?" Jeremy taunted.  
Just as Pauline was about to step forward and defend herself, they both froze at the sound of a child's giggle. Before they could react the room was lit up for a split second by the flash of an IPhone camera.  
"Yes! Tommy Park strikes again!" The child yelled triumphantly, dashing past the two monsters and out the door.  
"FUCK!" Jeremy screamed, wheeling around in an effort to catch the boy, but it was too late.  
"Wait!" Pauline halted Jeremy with a single prickly leg in his path. "Did he just say Park? Like... Like Waylon Park?"  
"We're in trouble!" He confirmed, knowing damn well the real little Waylon was about to show big Waylon a picture of 'Lil Waylon' when he got home.  
-  
~Even Later that Night~  
"I'm just saying, we'd be the perfect couple." Jeremy said, shuffling along as they made their way to Waylon Park's office.  
"I don't give a shit, Blaire. You're a ratchet ass hoe!" Pauline stomped behind him, generally pissed off that she'd been dragged into this mess.  
"And what does that make you!?" He protested, giving the Wrapussy a shove that nearly knocked her over.  
"I'm clearly superior to everyone here, and everyone anywhere else!" She clearly wasn't.  
"Shhh! Did you hear that?" Jeremy extended his arm in front of her.  
"Keep your nasty ass arms away fr-..." She stopped, hearing whatever it was the Lampenis had heard first.  
Someone was clearly in the break room to their left, more than one someone in fact.   
There were two distinct voices.  
"Is this just what you guys do at night?!" Waylon's voice asked rather angrily.  
"What the hell are you even doing here at this  hour?!" Trager's voice was the next to be heard.  
The Wrapussy stepped closer to the door. "Should we say something?" She whispered.  
Jeremy leaned towards her. "I don't know!"  
They both screamed, caught by surprise as a small child shoved his way between them.  
"Daddy daddy, look!" The child urged, bursting through the break room door.  
"Timmy, you little shit!" The Lampenis yelled, diving forward to catch the child before the picture could be seen.  
"It's Tommy!" The child shouted.  
Shit! The lights were on! The lights were on and Jeremy was face down on the floor!  
"Oh fuck, not this shit again!" Rick sighed.  
"MY KID IS HERE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!" Waylon screamed, jerking Jeremy to his feet by his single exposed arm.  
"Why the hell would you bring your kid!?" He challenged.  
"Daddy, I've got a picture!" Tommy was jumping up and down, holding on to his father's arm.  
Waylon dropped Jeremy's pathetic body to the floor, taking the phone from his son's hand. A smile spread across Waylon's face.  
Still unable to the see, the Wrapussy stumbled her way into the room, tripping over Jeremy's limp body and landing on top of him. She froze, too terrified to move.  
"Holy shit!" Trager exclaimed, looking at the picture from over Waylon's shoulder.   
"Mister Trager? What's that on your nose?" Tommy asked innocently.  
Rick turned away, quickly wiping the powder from his face. "It's uh... It's baby powder!"  
"Bullshit!" Jeremy's yell was muffled, since his face was pressed against the floor.  
The comment earned him a kick in the head, from Trager.  
Waylon looked up from the phone screen with a sly grin.   
"Post it." Rick nodded, his hand resting on Waylon's shoulder.  
Waylon pressed the 'send' button.


	4. Exposing Murkoff- The Aftermath

The damage was done, the message had been sent, and Jeremy knew that. The part that he couldn't believe was just how quickly Lisa Park and Miles Upshur had been able to construct such strong willed internet stories. In a matter of only a few hours, two completely different works had been published, both including the picture Waylon Park's little brat had managed to snap.   
What was withheld in those articles wasn't important. What mattered was the very real effect both Jeremy and Pauline knew would this would have on their personal habits. The Lampenis and the Wrapussy were famous now. A couple of Urban Legends.  
Luckily for them, the names Jeremy Blaire and Pauline Glick had mercifully been left out of those online wells of information. Still, there were only so many people the employees of Murkoff could suspect, an of those people Jeremy was likely at the top of the list. This was mostly due to the obsessive amount of gossiping Trager had done over the past few days. Jeremy knew deep down that he couldn't blame him, but that didn't make him any less of an ass... So, as with everything, rather than dealing with the issue Jeremy chose to get fucked up drunk.  
"Jerald!" Pauline shouted, throwing her bubble-wrapped body against his front door.  
"That's not my fucking name." Jeremy slurred as he opened the door, far too drunk to get overly angry.  
Hell, he wasn't even wearing his fur-suit.  
"Get back inside, you moron! We can't be seen together out of character!" She demanded, clicking her heel against the front step.  
"Oh okay." He tried to agree passively, but rather than taking a step back his body toppled forward.  
The Wrapussy was quick enough to step out of the way as Jeremy's body tumbled down the three front steps, landing in a misshapen heap.  
"You know, I'd love to help you up, but I don't have any fucking arms at this current moment." She said with a mix of sarcasm and disappointment. Ironically those were the two things that made 90% of her personality as well.  
"How... How the hell'd you even know I wasn't dressed up if you can't fuckin see?" He spat, holding up his left index finger rather standing up.  
"Because you don't smell like piss for once, you filthy prick." She gave him a gentle kick with the toe of her shoe. "Now get the hell up."  
"Okay okay, I'm tryin." If by trying he meant flailing around on the ground like an idiot that is.  
"We really don't have time for this!" Pauline abruptly turned towards the house. "Meet me inside when you can get your pathetic ass off the ground."  
Jeremy sniffed. "Alright... FINE!"  
Was she breaking up with him? How dare she! Or was he just really really drunk?   
Probably the later.  
"STOP CRYING, AND GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" He heard her yell from somewhere inside.  
With that little bit of encouragement, he somehow managed to slowly crawl up the front steps, and ended up face down on the expensive hardwood floor.  
The Wrapussy sighed. "Drastic times call for drastic measures." She forced her thin, sweaty arms through the layers of bubble-wrap, so that she'd at least be able to close the damn door.  
"Why doesn't anyone love me Pauly?" He sobbed, for some reason unable to lift his head.  
"Don't call me that." She huffed, trying to lift his nearly lifeless body.  
His feet were left dragging on the floor as she lugged him to the nearest couch.  
"You care about me, right?" Jeremy whined, falling onto his side on the cushions.  
Pauline looked down at him, she probably would have felt something like sympathy if she was capable of human emotion, but unfortunately she wasn't. "No."  
She had more important things to deal with, mainly getting him undressed and into his box as quickly as possible.   
"WHY NOT!?" He cried, his face now buried in the sofa cushions.  
"Shut up and help me!" She grabbed a fist full of his hair, roughly pulling him into a sitting position. "We've gotta get you naked and put you in your box!"  
"DOES IT EVEN MATTER ANYMORE!?" He sobbed.  
She ignored him, beginning to unbutton his suit. "What the fuck?"   
"Whaa?" He asked, giving her a creepily blank stare, one that she couldn't even see for that matter.  
"Are you wearing two fucking suits?" At this point she shouldn't have been surprised.  
Jeremy nodded. "I wear muh professional suit over my casual suit in case I have to go somewhere."  
"And all this time I just thought you were fat..." Pauline muttered to herself in disbelief.

~After an hour or two~

Finally, after what felt like ages, The Wrapussy and Lampenis were both fully fur-suited.  
Unfortunately for their situation however, Jeremy had stumbled upon more alcohol in the process, and was now having small talk with his refrigerator.  
"You sure seem pretty COOL!" Jeremy laughed, with about as much charm as fat piece of half dead roadkill. "Get it Pauly? It's a fridge pun!"  
Pauline groaned. "If you don't get your shit together, I swear this partnership is over!"  
He spun around to face her with a look of surprise under the layer of cardboard. "WE'RE PARTNERS?!"  
"Oh, for fucks sake." She tried to kick him, but instead the sharp prickly hairs on her leg scratched his arm, like someone had thrown a cactus at him.  
"OW! That's not how you're supposed to treat your partner!" The Lampenis shouted.  
"Let's see what would a drunk teenage girl do?..." The Wrapussy thought to herself out loud. "Oh, I know! Why don't you go call up a friend and cry like the little bitch that you are?"  
Jeremy thought for a moment. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. "Oh... Well okay."  
He unsteadily shuffled his way over to one of his ridiculously expensive bar stools, and sat down, breaking the seams of his cardboard armor in the process. With his cell phone in hand, he pulled up the number of the only friend he had and pressed 'call'.  
"Hello?" Trager answered.  
"Rick! Do you care about me?" Jeremy mumbled, he would have fallen off that bar stood had Pauline not stepped in to prevent it.  
"Jeremy... For the last fucking time, DON'T CALL ME UNLESS ITS IMPORTANT!" Rick yelled, followed by the tone that signaled he'd hung up.  
The Lampenis tossed his phone to the tile of the kitchen floor, shattering the screen. "HE DOESN'T LOVE ME!"  
For one final time, Pauline sighed in disappointment. "That's it! I'm leaving!"   
After all, she still had to go home to write her nightly list of  100 reasons why she was better than everyone else.


	5. Saddest Furry Love Story

As always, Jeremy showed up to work as if nothing had ever happened, completely normal to the average eye. The only difference this time was his obvious hangover, and the bit of resentment he showed towards all of his coworkers. He'd only been at the office for an hour and a half, yet somehow his day was already completely and utterly shit.  
"Mornin, buddy! How's it going?" Jeremy looked up to see Trager leaning against the door frame.   
"Piss off Rick, I'm busy." He huffed, still upset over the ordeals of the past few days.  
"Ah, come on, what's wrong? Feeling a little boxed up? Need me to shine some light on the subject?" Trager sneered, obviously trying not to laugh.  
"Would you shut the hell up?" Jeremy yelled, sending a ballpoint pen flying in his friend's direction.  
Rick caught the pen between his fingers, with a wink. "Better luck next time."  
He rolled his eyes. "Get out."   
"Alright alright, jeez." Trager turned to leave, twirling the fancy pen in his hand like a baton. "Thanks for the pen, buddy"  
Jeremy laid his head in his hands with a sigh, it was going to be a long day.

~After Said Long Day~

After tens years of coming home late from his position at Murkoff, Jeremy had never been happier to be at home than on that day. Although he'd calmed down considerably compared to earlier in the day, he still wasn't in the best mood, and judging by his new phone's caller ID that wasn't about to change.  
"Hello?" He answered tiredly.  
There was giggling from the other end.  
"Look Pauline, I don't have time for this, it hasn't been a good day!" He didn't want to loose his temper, but she was pushing it and she hadn't even spoken yet.   
"Oh it's about to get so much worse." She laughed.  
He sat up a bit straighter, convinced that he wasn't going to like whatever it was she had to say. "What are you talking about?"  
"I'd recommend calling a friend over, you're gonna need the support..." She sounded a bit more serious. "And I swear to you, if any of your bullshit gets pinned on me, the entire fucking world will see this video." She hung up, a single text message with a video file attached popped up on his screen.  
Jeremy went pale. What video?  
He decided to take her advice.  
"It better be important this time." The voice answered.  
"Rick, I need you to get your ass over here right now!"  
He didn't know what the hell was in that video file, but he sure as hell wasn't going to open it alone.   
Which is the only reason why he felt a bit relieved when he finally heard a knock at the door.  
"Thank fuck you actually showed up." Jeremy mumbled, swinging open the front door.  
Trager crossed his arms. "What do ya take me for, huh? Think I'm just gonna betray you out of the blue? Only a little bitch would do something like that."  
"That doesn't matter right now!" Jeremy slammed the door behind then, literally pulling his coworker inside. "We might have a serious problem!"  
"Why the hell do I have to be involved?" Rick asked, taking a step away from Jeremy who had been uncomfortably close.  
"Because you're the closest thing to a trustworthy person that I have access to right now." He pulled his phone, waving it in Trager's face. "And I promise it'll be interesting!"  
"Show me."   
Jeremy stood beside his source of support, holding the phone so that they both could see it as he pressed 'play'.  
The video opened in his kitchen, clearly being shot by the Wrapussy, because only a blind person could manage to film that terribly. Starting from the corner of the frame, the Lampenis version of Jeremy came into view, swinging from side to side as if he were trying to slow dance.  
"Neeeeeeear, faaaaaar, whereeeeeeeever you aaaaaaare!" The clearly drunken voice sang.

Jeremy covered his eyes with his free hand in embarrassment, hearing laughter erupt from the man beside him.  
"Ahah, what is that? Titanic?" Rick laughed.   
"Oh no." He whispered to himself, to ashamed to speak to anyone else.  
Trager leaned down a bit closer to the small illuminated phone screen. 

The boxed man in the video continued to sing, swaying back and forth on the door of the fridge like it was his dance partner.   
Rick squinted. "Wait... What's that you doing to the frid-?... AHH, NO! TURN IT OFF! STOP!"  
Jeremy peeked at the screen through the space between his fingers, horrified by what he saw. "OH WHAT THE HELL?!" He dropped the phone, to disturbed to keep his grip, and shattering yet another screen.  
"Buddy..." He felt Trager's arm around his shoulders. "I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was THAT bad."  
Jeremy remained silent for a moment, a blank stare on his face. "I don't even remember-"  
"Listen," Trager cut him off, waving a hand in front of them like he was showing off a new car. "You need help buddy. Let me be a... uh, beacon of light in these dark times."  
"You're serious?" Jeremy asked, his eyes still locked on stare mode.  
"I mean I've had some dark times, don't get me wrong, but..." He stepped around putting both his hands on Jeremy's shoulders. "I've never tried to stick my dick in a refrigerator whilst singing Celine Dion."  
That professional persona lasted about 32 seconds, before Rick bursted into laughter yet again, stumbling backwards as he did.  
Jeremy didn't have a response. He knew damn well that he deserved this.  
"You better hope nobody sees that!" Trager somehow managed to get enough air to speak, between fits of laughter.  
There wasn't much he could do at the point, beside wait for his so called 'friend' to calm down.  
"She's blackmailing me..." Jeremy said aloud, in disbelief.  
Finally able to construct a proper sentence, Rick looked down at the broken phone where the other man was staring. "That's rough buddy..."  
He nodded slowly, the full weight of the situation hitting him full force.  
"You know what?" Trager's hand came down on Jeremy's shoulders with a bit more force than necessary. "Therapy's on me, how do drinks sound?"  
"Sure." Jeremy sighed.  
After a rollercoaster like that, therapy didn't sound all that bad.


	6. A Lampenis Late Christmas Crack

As with most days in his life Jeremy woke up excessively shitty. The only difference this time was the day. Christmas Eve.   
He knew from the moment he woke up, that he would be in over his head today. Christmas was Rick's absolute favorite time of the year, and when Rick was in a good mood, things were bound to get wild.  
When he walked into office that morning, Rick's extreme Christmas spirit was the first thing to hit him.  
"Merry Christmas, buddy!" Trager's best happy voice hit his ears, the heavy arm of the other man slamming down on his shoulders. "I got something I need to ask ya."  
Jeremy sighed. "Listen Rick, you don't need to get me anything for Christmas, today is not the-"  
"No no, ya don't understand!" Rick interrupted with a nervous laugh, stepping in front of Blaire and placing his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "I think I fucked yer sister..."  
Jer froze, gritting his teeth as he stared into his coworker's eyes.   
Aside from Rick's blatant disrespect for family, there was one other problem. "Rick..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I DON'T HAVE A SISTER!"  
Trager's eyes widened in either shock or horror, the color draining from his face. "Ah shit..."  
"WHAT DID YOU DO RICK?!" It was Jeremy now, who hands his hands resting oppressively on his friend's shoulders.  
"Jer, buddy listen, I swear she didn't tell me 'er name until-"   
Jeremy's hand covered Rick's mouth, cutting off his words. "Richard Trager. Did you fuck my mother?"  
His hand slowly left the other man's lips, revealing a wide shit-eating grin.  
"How dare you speak to your father that way!" Rick sneered, unable to hold back his laughter beyond that point.  
Jeremy stood, straight faced. His eyes fixed on his work partner who was clearly enjoying himself, nearly on his knees laughing.  
"Why uhuh-" Rick gasped for air. "Why don't ya come tell daddy what you want for Christmas?"  
"You've got balls to think I won't have you FIRED!" Blaire screamed, stomping foot forward, though Trager obviously wasn't intimidated.  
"Ya know it's funny," Rick wiped a tear of joy from his eye. "THATS EXACTLY WHAT YER MOM SAID!"  
With those final words, Trager fell to his knees, his hands on the floor in front of him to support his laughter shaken body.  
Jeremy turned on his heel without a word, walked briskly to his office where he locked the door behind him.  
"FUCK YOU, RICK!" He yelled through the thin office door, before falling back into his office chair with a groan.  
From the end of the hallway, he swore he could almost hear Rick calling "Your Mom already took care of that last night, buddy"  
What a prick.  
It was there, in his fancy but worn office chair, that Jeremy made a firm decision to never speak to Richard Trager again as long as he lived. Whether he liked it or not, Rick always had the upper hand. He was older, stronger, more charming, and a hell of a lot more charismatic than Jeremy could ever hope to be. Not to mention, Rick knew every one of his deepest secrets, granted by no fault of his own. Rick knew that he was the Lampenis, and given any slip up, he'd tell everyone he knew.   
He should have been more specific when he wrote that letter to Santa entailing that all he wanted for Christmas was "To call Rick Trager Daddy"  
It was upon that thought, that an idea struck him.  
Fuck Santa Claus.  
Firm decisions aside, there was only one person he knew that could kill in cold blood. He needed to talk to Rick.  
Nearly breaking down his own door, Jeremy raced into the hallway. "RICK! I need to talk to you!"  
As fast as his legs could carry him, he ran to Trager's office, throwing open the door in a single motion.   
"Rick!" He shouted, coming to a halt in the doorway.  
"Oh it's Jerry Berry!" A croaking feminine smoker's voice called from the chair facing Richard Trager.  
Jer felt his face go pale. "Mom?"  
"Jerry!" The woman exclaimed, rushing over to wrap her son in a hug. "You didn't tell me that this was the friend you always talk about!"  
"Oh does he now?" Rick asked, a devilish smile on his face.  
Jeremy's face changed from white to red in a matter of seconds.  
"You where right about EVERYTHING!" She said, her arm still around her son. "I guess we have the same tastes, like mother like son, aye?"  
"Mom, don't." Jeremy nudged his mother with his elbow.  
Rick raised an eyebrow, never wiping his face of that grin. "What's she talkin' about, Jer?"  
"NOTHING DAMN IT!" Blaire yelled, squeezing his mother's arm in hopes that she would take the hint.  
"Oh, he always tells me about how great it is to work with you!" She smiled as if she were the most innocent person in the world. "Once he even said that 'you must know how sexy you are, because you love to flaunt it'! Isn’t that sweet?”  
Jeremy entangled a fist in his own hair, ready to yank out a chunk of it if things escalated any further.  
"Isn't that something?" Rick purred, a smug 'stroke my ego a little more' expression on his face.  
"Mom, can you leave? Now?" Jer asked, the embarrassment clear in his voice.  
"Oh fine, you boys have your fun." She sighed, heading for the door. "Goodbye Rick."  
"See ya, Veronica." Trager called as she left the room.   
"Her name is Victoria, Rick." Jeremy corrected.  
"Yeah yeah, whatever..." Trager smiled up at him. "So, I'm sexy, huh?"  
"Shut up and listen Rick!" Jeremy yelled, slamming his hand down his coworkers desk. "I need your help!"  
Rick sighed. "Look, buddy, I'm real sorry about what happened with yer mom. I didn't mean to-"  
"It's not about that!" He whined, leaning closer to his friend. "I know why it happened!"  
"What in the hell are you talking about?" The more attractive of the two men asked.  
Jeremy rolled his eyes, forcing past the humiliation of what he was about to say. "I wrote a letter to Santa."  
Rick snorted, biting his lip to fight back a laugh. "You uh, ya did what now?"  
"I wrote a letter to Santa Claus!" He replied begrudgingly.  
"Oh, yeah yeah, course ya did..." Trager leaned back, kicking his feet up on his dark hardwood desk. "And, what exactly did that letter say?"  
Jeremy huffed, pulling up a chair behind him, his eyes still trained on Rick. "It said that all I wanted for Christmas was-"  
Before he could finish the sentence, he fell to the floor with a loud thud, having underestimated the space between him and his selected chair.  
"Ya alright there buddy?" Rick laughed, looking over the desk at him.  
"It said that all I wanted for Christmas was to call you Daddy!" Jeremy spat, a blush covering his cheeks.  
Trager let himself have a good laugh after that one. "I presume, you uh, should've been a bit more specific?"  
Blaire rolled his eyes. "Yeah."  
"Alright, you've confessed, what do ya want from me?" Rick asked, with a patient stare.  
Jeremy stood, brushing himself off. "I want you to help me kill Santa Claus."   
"Ya said what now?"

~After a few Hours of Santa murder planning~

Jeremy sat on his best friend’s snow covered roof, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and the man himself by his side.  
“Didn’t I tell ya that you should’ve brought a coat or somethin’?” Rick asked, glancing over at Jer’s trembling body.  
“S-shut the f-fuck up, Dick. This is about Santa Cunt, n-not me...” He replied through shivers.  
Trager wrapped his long, expensive, coat tighter around his own body. “Yeah, well, ya better hope this asshole shows up. Or neither one of us is gonna have a good Christmas.”  
“Oh, he w-will.” Jeremy stammered, buttoning up the last few buttons on his suit jacket. “I know it! A-and if he does-“  
“Yeah yeah, I know what happens.” Trager sighed, scooping some snow into his hands to finish his miniature snowman.  
Just then, a loud scraping crash caught the two of them off guard from the other side of the roof.  
“He’s here!” Jeremy announced in a whisper.  
Rick nodded, and the two men stood, slowly making their way to the location of the noise. Directly in front of them, facing in the opposite direction as he dug through the contents of his sleigh, was Santa Claus.  
“Hey, you FAT BASTARD!” Jeremy yelled, nearly causing the red suited man to slip as he spun around.  
“Ho Ho Who the fuck are you?” The white bearded man asked.  
“YOU MADE RICK FUCK MY MOM!” He screamed his reply through the sound of the icy wind.  
“Oh, There’s Richard! Ho Ho Ho, I didn’t see you there buddy!” Santa took a step forward, holding out a small bag filled with white powder. “You haven’t been the best, but you’ve been good.”  
“ONLY A GRAM!?” Rick yelled, in an obvious outrage. “I AM THE BEST BOY, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”  
Both Rick and Jeremy pulled the knives from their coats, charging at the larger, jollier man. The two weapons sunk deep into the fat man’s body, sending him tumbling down the roofside. As his heavy body slid, Santa managed to grab Jeremy by the ankle, now the two of them both slipping towards the edge.   
“JER! BUDDY!” Rick threw his body over the arch of the roof, managing to grab hold of his friend’s hand. “I GOTCHA!”  
“RICK, YOU GOTTA STOP HIM!” Jeremy squealed, feeling the weight of the heavy man pulling his leg.  
“Get him Rodger!” With his free hand, Trager picked up his miniature snowman, giving it a kiss on the head before sending it flying at the fat man’s face.  
The little snow-being struck Santa directly in the head, and he released Jeremy’s ankle.  
“Come on, buddy!” Rick growled, pulling Blaire back to his feet. “We did it!”   
“You’re damn right, we did!” Jer panted, looking down at the heap of fat lying in the snow twenty feet below them.  
“And look at this!” Trager leaned down to pick something up out of the snow.  
“What is it?” Jeremy asked, turning to look at his Christmas wish.  
Rick lifted the red and white Santa hat, and placed it in his head. “I’m Santa now!”  
Jer looked down at his feet, a hint of shame in his words. “Does that mean I get my wish?”  
Trager sighed. “Alright.”  
Blaire looked up at him with a bit of surprise.  
“But only once!” Rick clarified.  
“Thanks, daddy.” Jer said with a shy smile.  
Trager opened his arms, offering the inferior man a hug. “You’re welcome, buddy.”  
Once the two men hugged on the rooftop, it was time to bring their murderous night to an end.  
“You’ll always be my best buddy.” Rick sighed, heading for the latter they’d used to reach his roof.   
Jeremy felt nothing. “Yeah, and you mine.” He lied.  
“How about a nice Christmas shot and line?” Trager smiled, holding up the small bag of cocaine. “And I promise, I’ll never touch your mother again.”  
“Let’s do this.” Blaire replied, following Rick to the latter.  
Rick stood at the top for a moment, the red hat still on his head. “Merry Christmas to all buddy, and to all a good night... Unless you’re fuckin’ quitter.”

~ And after that moment they lived happily ever after... Until Jeremy inevitably ruined everything like the failure that he is... ~


End file.
